I always think I want to grow: a poem

I always think I want to grow
my hair out, but then
it gets below my ears and I feel
not like myself.

So I cut it short again.
But then I feel ashamed,
like it’s time to grow up
and stop pretending.

And I swear,
“This is the last time
I’ll cut it so short.”

But-
I don’t know who I am
with long hair.
Not anymore.

Long hair is a past
I don’t care to revisit.
Long hair,
to me, is nostalgic
like tarnished silver.

Brilliant,
but a little sad.